


Stalactites

by woollen_pharaohs



Category: The Tomorrow People (2013)
Genre: Multi, PWP, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 07:53:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1029170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woollen_pharaohs/pseuds/woollen_pharaohs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't like Stephen ever willed himself to end up in other people's beds, it just happened. And he had to admit, he came to rather like it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stalactites

It wasn't like Stephen ever willed himself to end up in other people's beds, it just happened. His old psychologist might have told him it was a subconscious decision if he even knew Stephen had supernatural powers. Stephen liked to think it was random; a sporadic event which would happen once every month or so, frequent enough for him to sharpen his acting skills when explaining it away to his mother. That used to be the worst part, dealing with the shame and confusion his mother felt towards him. Luckily now that he can somewhat control his powers, he doesn't have to put her through so much of his lies. It's more about the art of becoming a wallflower in his own home.

Only thing is, it's not like Stephen even has 100% control over his powers yet. It's better, but there's still something hard wired in his 3 T's that teleporting to other people's beds in the middle of the night is the way to go. And yet, he's not complaining when he seems to be locked on a certain featherbed.

At first it was terrifying, intimidating, like he'd woken up in the Queen's bed, that if he moved an inch a thousand guys in hilarious hats would storm in and arrest him. He'd been teleported to Cara and John's bed, an unknown location to his subconscious self, and he was right on the edge of the bed, the edge of his calm. Cara had instantly curled around him, her body melding into his, breasts against his back. She secured him, locked him in tight, made him feel safe if not for the restful breathing of a god just beyond Cara.

That was the first night. Hugging, tentatively tracing his fingers over Cara's skin, hoping she would and wouldn't wake up. Stephen's still not sure if Cara even remembers that first night, that first fling. He was only there for about five minutes in the end, enough time for his mind to run a thousand possibilities for his demise when John awoke. It was hard for Stephen to focus, but he managed to teleport to his bedroom, though he had misjudged the level of the floor and had come crashing to the floor. He lay on the ground, for maybe hours, regaining his sanity, thankful his mother and brother were probably in deep sleep and hadn't heard him.

The second night, about a week and half later, it was like they were expecting him to land right between their two bodies; the way they snapped to the curves of his body, the way they hummed in delight from his warmth and giddiness and rapid heartbeat, light headedness, can't breathe, stop breathing start taking it all in, feel it all. He couldn't sleep, at least, he doesn't think he slept, he was so tired the next day at school, but the night still vivid in his mind. Cara pressing small kisses over his cheek, his ear, down his neck, John's toes tickling his, toned chest hard against Stephen's bicep, hard against his hip, hot, encased in warmth, snug tight. Cara's whispering in his ears, calling him during math, and he hopes tonight he can visit again, come on the one time he actually wants to jump into someone else's bed. He can't control it, he hasn't even seen the dormitories in the underground, has no clue where their bedroom even is, only that it exists.

It doesn't happen for a while, he's tortured by Cara and John's lustful looks when he visits the underground. _Please, please take me down the corridor, take me to your bed_. She doesn't speak to him as much in his mind anymore, he's sort of thankful, the kinds of things he thinks to himself, he'd blabber, he'd embarrass himself. But he sort of needs that invitation, spoken with the mouth or with the mind, it's driving him crazy - if he can't get there in his sleep…

The third time, it's almost too long, almost too late. Stephen's ecstatic when he flashes into their bed sheets, and they're waiting, like always, they knew he was coming as if they summoned him, were the ones who glitched his teleportation in the first place. He gets a taste of John first, a glimmer of disappointment that it wasn't Cara as his first kiss, but it doesn't matter, he's kissing John and that disappointing thought is as small as the dust on his textbooks. John's gentle, surprisingly. He cups Stephen's face, thumb caressing Stephen's cheek, ticklish. Cara's elsewhere, hands on John, hands on Stephen, like she's got four, seven, invisible hands, rough, raking his body, arching his back, telekinesis working it's magic. Cara sucks on John's skin, shoulder, neck, Stephen's locked on her eyes when she draws them on him, lust-filled. Stephen flickers to focus on a hand of hers down at her cunt, hidden by her pubic hair, but moving visibly, her slender fingers working herself, those muscles flexing, her hips, her thighs, her thumbs.

Cara disappears behind John who pauses, smirks, something's up, something's _on_ him, Cara's mouth around his cock, suddenly Stephen's hands are alive, an entity, have the audacity, the capacity to touch to feel to absorb. First, nipples. He thumbs John's, toys with them until John growls and Cara smiles around his cock and he can _feel her smile_. Don't stop, again, repeat, rewind, replay. It's hot, that dizziness returns, that light headedness, like he's floating on a cloud, floating in the air, telekinesis pushing him up, securing him in the air, his invisible ropes.

In a flurry of broken imagery John's got Stephen in an entirely different position, kneeling on the bed. John wraps himself around Stephen, stomach to back, kisses Stephen's neck, John's so fit, so in shape Stephen almost feels embarrassed though he has no time because Cara's in front of him, her full nudity 150% registering with Stephen's mind. Stephen leans forward, drags his hand across her thigh, up her waist, fondles her breasts, flickers his thumbs across her nipples and it's the same affect on her as on John, their shared kink. Cara throws her head back on the mattress, claws her fingers into the sheets, Stephen moans and John's covering him, encompassing him, protecting him.

Stephen takes John's member in his hand and it's awkward as he tries to take his own into Cara, but he does it, for a small time, before he feels John slip a finger into his hole, and he lets go. Cara's fingers are tracing latin into his back as he thrusts into her, ensconced in Cara, in John wrapped around him, rutting. Stephen feels a momentary flash of loneliness as John flickers away, returns with lube in hand, spreads it generously over his hands, over his cock, within Stephen. It's chilling; the slickness, the trepidation of what's coming next. Stephen feels John probe at his entrance and he can barely contain himself, shuddering, Cara moans, riling beneath him, her disgustingly beautiful skin radiant in the moonlight.

Then John pushes in and Stephen freezes completely, a flurry of mental words seemingly all at once yet coherent to him all the same - _are you okay? Is this fine? Don't stop, don't stop moving!_ Stephen nods, there's a _yes_ there somewhere, in his mental words, or out of his own mouth in a low growl, he knows this because John begins, gentle, pushes into Stephen, coaxes him to move, get those hips rolling into Cara. Momentarily he feels self-conscious, virgin blues, _is he doing okay? Are they enjoying it? How can he do better?_ \- _You're fine, you're doing amazing, perfect, god, you're attractive, don't stop, is this good?_ And that words, he's not entirely sure they're even his own, or whom then, they belong to, but they're encouraging and in all honesty, it feels so damn good being buried in Cara, a goodess, Athena, and being drilled by John, Poseidon, or why not freaking hercules?

Cara does this thing where she sort of drags on him, follows his movements and clenches right at the leave moment and it's enough to push him off the edge, and he does, when John presses on his sweet spot right at the same time, like they were planning it all along. Stephen comes and he shudders, jolts, and John slips out of him, slips easily into Cara as Stephen falls aside. He's rewarded with the sight of John thrusting a few last times into Cara, her back arched impossibly, her moans, the other Tomorrow People are going to think she's in danger, and yet their sounds are caught in a bubble, inaudible by the outside world.

Between Stephen's eyes drooping shut, he catches the flashes of John teleporting with Cara, a distortion of image and light, and when he next opens his eyes, Stephen's back in his bedroom, the breath of the gods breathing softly over his neck, naked bodies draped over his own.

"See you tomorrow night," Cara thinks to Stephen, winks, an outright invitation.

Those wankers, still naked, shimmer out of his room and how is he meant to sleep after watching that? Stephen closes his eyes, a distortion in the air, breaking the silence, he opens his eyes and sees John taking up his bed sheets, tucks him in. Kisses Stephen on his cheek, and the moment his lips leave Stephen's skin he's gone again, and Stephen's overcome with sleepiness, rests well with the thought of returning to his secret lovers the next night.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Beds](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067697) by [PinkRangerV](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkRangerV/pseuds/PinkRangerV)




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